Disgustingly, you found yourself hoping for that kind of lecture whenever you got home past your curfew — because daddy knows how men are, and girls shouldn't be outside by themselves when it gets dark — and knocked over empty beer bottles, alerting your inebriated daddy. Anything was better than the dull pain of a dark, blooming bruise, and some of daddy's lectures did not require you to come up with implausible excuses in front of others, because they simply did not leave a mark. Not a visible one, at least.

Plap plap plap.

"That how you wanna end up like, huh? Under some guy, taking what he wants from you?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, his breath hot and humid against the side of your neck, reeking of alcohol. You held your breath.

"N-No, Dad… fuck."

"No? But that's what you get for dressing like a slut, kid."

Your cervix ached, the blunt tip of Krauser's cock ramming against it with every deep thrust. The first time this happened, you had thought that the sharp pain when your hole tried to accommodate his girth was the worst part of it all, but you had not known how much more painful this could get. 

"I'll— oh my god… I'll cover up more, Dad, I promise!" you whimpered out through gritted teeth. "Please, Daddy, it hurts…"

Krauser released your neck from the headlock he had restrained you in, and straightened up, now pressing you into the couch cushions with his large, calloused hands between your shoulder blades.

"Oh, it hurts?" he mocked your pleading voice, followed by a low growl. "You think the guy who's gonna drag you into a dark alley one day is gonna be nice about this, huh?"

"No, Daddy…"

"Exactly. Now, be a good girl and fucking take it," Krauser grunted and slammed his hips down against your ass, burying his cock deep in your abused pussy. You could tell by the way his strained noises became breathier, almost soft, all caught up in his own pleasure, that he was close.

"Fuck… gonna cum… oh, fuck," Krauser panted above you, and you instinctively clawed at the cushions beneath you in a pathetic attempt to crawl out from under your stepdad's weight.

"Not inside, please, Daddy!" you wailed desperately. Your squirming was no use; you had never stood a chance against the sheer mass of Krauser's muscles and his imposing height. Fawning, sacrificing all dignity, had always been the only way to soften him up or get your way with him.

"Shut up… shut the fuck up, you little slut." Krauser's hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back. You winced at the feeling of your spine protesting and your scalp stinging. "Nagging like her bitch of a mother, even when getting fucked, unbelievable."

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks when you felt Krauser go still above you. Only his hips twitched slightly as he pumped his hot load into you. You felt tainted, humiliated. And worst of all, you were going to have to rush to get a Plan B and pray that the emergency protection was going to prevent a pregnancy.

Breathing heavily, Krauser pulled out and slumped back against the armrest of the run-down couch. He ran a hand through his damp, blond hair and sighed, half-heartedly patting one of your bruised butt cheeks.

"There, there, kid. C'mon, stop crying, hm? I didn't mean to swear at you," he muttered.

Still sniffling, you sat up and curled against Krauser's chest. He always apologized and comforted you afterward, like a nice father— in his own, twisted way. But, well, what about him was not completely messed up?

"I'm sorry, Daddy… I didn't mean to make you angry."

Krauser swiped one calloused thumb across your cheek, wiping away your tears. 

"Did you learn your lesson?" he murmured.

"Mhm-mhm," you nodded as another choked sob escaped you.

"Then I won't have to hurt you again, hon. This ain't about my own pleasure."

This was not about sex to him, not about getting off, at least not in moments like this. Sometimes, though… it was definitely about sex.

You had watched Krauser from the corner of your eye all night, as you cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, and he had retreated to the couch, popping open more than a responsible amount of beers and dozing off in front of the TV, sprawled out, head tipped back uncomfortably against the backrest.

Despite knowing well what act of depravity this was going to provoke, you climbed onto the couch next to Krauser, curling against his side, tucking yourself under his big, muscular arm. Absentmindedly, your fingertips traced the long, deep scar that ran down the length of his arm, which eventually woke him up.

With an incoherent grumble, Krauser stirred underneath you.

"Hmph… kid…?" he murmured without opening his eyes. He only shifted a bit, his thighs spread, his legs outstretched, and his arm that was wrapped around you tightened gently around your shoulders.

"Don't you wanna go to bed, Daddy? It's late," you said, still caressing the toned forearm under your soft palm.

"Nah… 'm watching something here," Krauser grunted, but his eyes still wouldn't fully open.

"No, you're not," you scoffed with a smile you could not help. "You're snoring like a chainsaw; that's what you're doing."

"Got bored for a sec," Krauser chuckled back dryly. "But I'm wide awake now…"

Slowly, his hand that had been gently rubbing your arm snaked around your waist instead and cupped one of your tits through your top. Like always, he squeezed way too hard.

"Stop that, 's too rough," you pouted and tugged on Krauser's wrist, but he did not budge.

"Better?" he huffed as he loosened his grip, now carefully rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"No, Daddy, you're not supposed to touch me there at all." You tried sounding upset, but who were you even fooling? You had already overcome the initial disgust at being touched and molested by your stepfather, to the point where you even enjoyed it sometimes, when he was being sweet and gentle about it.

"Pfft. As if you care," Krauser chuckled again. "You're a bigger pervert than me, missy. And no one's gonna find out, anyway." He emphasized the last sentence with another squeeze of your tit before slipping his hand into your cleavage.

"It's still not proper," you protested weakly, but your own hand had already found its way to Krauser's crotch, palming his bulge and tracing its outline. 

He groaned lowly, hips instinctively bucking up into your touch. 

"That's it, kid… see, we both want this…"

You did not respond, but instead, you leaned up and peppered little kisses along Krauser's jaw. You sucked and licked gently at the spot you knew he loved having caressed before capturing his lips in a slow kiss. He still reeked of alcohol, but you did not mind in that moment.

"Why'd you get drunk again, Daddy? It's not good for you," you whispered between kisses. "Were you thinking about Mom?"

Krauser was never big on kissing; sure, he did kiss you sometimes, but that form of affection was far too juvenile for his taste. But now you had hit a sore spot with your question, causing him to jerk his head away abruptly.

"Don't get on my tits about that bitch, kiddo," he grunted, cold blue eyes narrowing. "She doesn't care about either of us, so fucking drop it already."

You bit your tongue, restraining yourself from ranting about how your mother had had every reason to leave, how he had treated her so poorly that leaving without a warning had probably been her only way to safety, even if it had meant giving up her own child.

Instead, you just nodded and nuzzled your face into the crook of Krauser's neck.

"Sorry, Daddy."

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Then, his free hand, the one that was not actively groping your tits, wrapped around yours that was palming his clothed cock, moving it more firmly for you.

"You gonna take care of me for a bit, hm, honey? You gonna do that for Daddy?"

His pitiful, low tone had you conditioned at this point, and you nodded. How could you possibly deny him, even if your rational side wanted this to end, craved freedom from the shackles of this dynamic, when you were all that was left of what little stability Krauser had ever known in his life? You could not abandon him just like your mother had. 

"Of course, Dad," you whispered, moving to unzip Krauser's fly. You dipped your hand into his pants, briefly holding his cock through the fabric of his boxers, before you tugged those down just enough too, pulling his half-hard shaft out.

His tip was a soft pink, and his shaft pale, surrounded by an unkempt, dark blond bush of pubic hair, which thinned out into a happy trail underneath his navel. Your hand wrapped around his thick shaft, stroking up and down the delicate skin and tracing the protruding veins there. The one on the underside of Krauser's cock pulsed as it eagerly came to life in your hand, hardening to its full size.

When you leaned down to kiss away the glistening bead of precum that oozed from Krauser's tip, you got a waft of his junk's musky smell, but to your own disappointment in yourself, the smell did not repulse you anymore, but instead turned you on. 

"That's it, kid… help your daddy relax…" Krauser murmured, one hand still fondling your tits and pinching your nipples to hardness while the other one came to rest on the back of your head, demanding and firm. Not yet forcibly pushing, but ready to do so in case you got the stupid idea of trying to back out.

But you were not going to back out, not when this was the first moderately peaceful and loving moment between you and Krauser in weeks.

You kissed down along his veiny shaft, followed by licking a long stripe back up to the tip with your flattened tongue. With your soft lips, you slowly sucked on the frenulum and teased his slit with the tip of your tongue, making him growl.

"Stop teasing and get to work," Krauser ordered, his hold on the back of your head tightening as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Obediently, because that was what your daddy had taught you, and nothing less, you wrapped your lips around his cock, flattened your tongue against the underside, and slowly began bobbing your head up and down.

"Fuck, baby, that's it… keep going," Krauser breathed, pushing your head a little further down. "Take it all, yeah… that's a good girl."

Your eyes watered, stinging as you ignored how your throat reflexively convulsed around his cock, when it hit the back of your palate. You instinctively tried to widen your mouth and relax your jaw more, as pulling back was not an option. Not when Krauser absolutely loved how deepthroating him always had your pretty makeup ruined, and how pathetic you looked when you tried not to puke on his dick. Slimy drool dribbled down his shaft and pooled at his base, getting caught in his bush. He pushed your head down a little further, your nose buried in his pubes, before you clawed at his thigh and slapped it, panicking.

With a dirty, sadistic chuckle, Krauser pulled your head back up by your hair, mercifully granting you some oxygen.

"You look fuckin' ruined," he cackled and smeared your own spit across your lips and chin. "Like some broke porn star with bills due."

"Don't… push my head down," you gasped, trying to catch your breath. You gulped, your throat already feeling sore. "'S not fun like this; I almost threw up."

"That's nasty," Krauser said, but his tone and expression seemed a little too eager, like he was not entirely opposed to provoking that outcome.

"Be nice," you sniffled, squeezing his thigh. "Or I'll stop."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, honey. I'll be nice, I promise," Krauser smirked. His thumb traced your swollen lower lip and gently tugged on it. "You're so pretty when you suck me off," he said hoarsely, slipping his thumb into your mouth. As if on cue, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked, eyes fluttering shut.

"I love you, Daddy," you mumbled with spit-slick lips and mascara streaks down your cheeks.

Disgustingly, you found yourself hoping for that kind of lecture whenever you got home past your curfew — because daddy knows how men are, and girls shouldn't be outside by themselves when it gets dark — and knocked over empty beer bottles, alerting your inebriated daddy. Anything was better than the dull pain of a dark, blooming bruise, and some of daddy's lectures did not require you to come up with implausible excuses in front of others, because they simply did not leave a mark. Not a visible one, at least.

Plap plap plap.

"That how you wanna end up like, huh? Under some guy, taking what he wants from you?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, his breath hot and humid against the side of your neck, reeking of alcohol. You held your breath.

"N-No, Dad… fuck."

"No? But that's what you get for dressing like a slut, kid."

Your cervix ached, the blunt tip of Krauser's cock ramming against it with every deep thrust. The first time this happened, you had thought that the sharp pain when your hole tried to accommodate his girth was the worst part of it all, but you had not known how much more painful this could get. 

"I'll— oh my god… I'll cover up more, Dad, I promise!" you whimpered out through gritted teeth. "Please, Daddy, it hurts…"

Krauser released your neck from the headlock he had restrained you in, and straightened up, now pressing you into the couch cushions with his large, calloused hands between your shoulder blades.

"Oh, it hurts?" he mocked your pleading voice, followed by a low growl. "You think the guy who's gonna drag you into a dark alley one day is gonna be nice about this, huh?"

"No, Daddy…"

"Exactly. Now, be a good girl and fucking take it," Krauser grunted and slammed his hips down against your ass, burying his cock deep in your abused pussy. You could tell by the way his strained noises became breathier, almost soft, all caught up in his own pleasure, that he was close.

"Fuck… gonna cum… oh, fuck," Krauser panted above you, and you instinctively clawed at the cushions beneath you in a pathetic attempt to crawl out from under your stepdad's weight.

"Not inside, please, Daddy!" you wailed desperately. Your squirming was no use; you had never stood a chance against the sheer mass of Krauser's muscles and his imposing height. Fawning, sacrificing all dignity, had always been the only way to soften him up or get your way with him.

"Shut up… shut the fuck up, you little slut." Krauser's hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back. You winced at the feeling of your spine protesting and your scalp stinging. "Nagging like her bitch of a mother, even when getting fucked, unbelievable."

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks when you felt Krauser go still above you. Only his hips twitched slightly as he pumped his hot load into you. You felt tainted, humiliated. And worst of all, you were going to have to rush to get a Plan B and pray that the emergency protection was going to prevent a pregnancy.

Breathing heavily, Krauser pulled out and slumped back against the armrest of the run-down couch. He ran a hand through his damp, blond hair and sighed, half-heartedly patting one of your bruised butt cheeks.

"There, there, kid. C'mon, stop crying, hm? I didn't mean to swear at you," he muttered.

Still sniffling, you sat up and curled against Krauser's chest. He always apologized and comforted you afterward, like a nice father— in his own, twisted way. But, well, what about him was not completely messed up?

"I'm sorry, Daddy… I didn't mean to make you angry."

Krauser swiped one calloused thumb across your cheek, wiping away your tears. 

"Did you learn your lesson?" he murmured.

"Mhm-mhm," you nodded as another choked sob escaped you.

"Then I won't have to hurt you again, hon. This ain't about my own pleasure."

This was not about sex to him, not about getting off, at least not in moments like this. Sometimes, though… it was definitely about sex.

You had watched Krauser from the corner of your eye all night, as you cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, and he had retreated to the couch, popping open more than a responsible amount of beers and dozing off in front of the TV, sprawled out, head tipped back uncomfortably against the backrest.

Despite knowing well what act of depravity this was going to provoke, you climbed onto the couch next to Krauser, curling against his side, tucking yourself under his big, muscular arm. Absentmindedly, your fingertips traced the long, deep scar that ran down the length of his arm, which eventually woke him up.

With an incoherent grumble, Krauser stirred underneath you.

"Hmph… kid…?" he murmured without opening his eyes. He only shifted a bit, his thighs spread, his legs outstretched, and his arm that was wrapped around you tightened gently around your shoulders.

"Don't you wanna go to bed, Daddy? It's late," you said, still caressing the toned forearm under your soft palm.

"Nah… 'm watching something here," Krauser grunted, but his eyes still wouldn't fully open.

"No, you're not," you scoffed with a smile you could not help. "You're snoring like a chainsaw; that's what you're doing."

"Got bored for a sec," Krauser chuckled back dryly. "But I'm wide awake now…"

Slowly, his hand that had been gently rubbing your arm snaked around your waist instead and cupped one of your tits through your top. Like always, he squeezed way too hard.

"Stop that, 's too rough," you pouted and tugged on Krauser's wrist, but he did not budge.

"Better?" he huffed as he loosened his grip, now carefully rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"No, Daddy, you're not supposed to touch me there at all." You tried sounding upset, but who were you even fooling? You had already overcome the initial disgust at being touched and molested by your stepfather, to the point where you even enjoyed it sometimes, when he was being sweet and gentle about it.

"Pfft. As if you care," Krauser chuckled again. "You're a bigger pervert than me, missy. And no one's gonna find out, anyway." He emphasized the last sentence with another squeeze of your tit before slipping his hand into your cleavage.

"It's still not proper," you protested weakly, but your own hand had already found its way to Krauser's crotch, palming his bulge and tracing its outline. 

He groaned lowly, hips instinctively bucking up into your touch. 

"That's it, kid… see, we both want this…"

You did not respond, but instead, you leaned up and peppered little kisses along Krauser's jaw. You sucked and licked gently at the spot you knew he loved having caressed before capturing his lips in a slow kiss. He still reeked of alcohol, but you did not mind in that moment.

"Why'd you get drunk again, Daddy? It's not good for you," you whispered between kisses. "Were you thinking about Mom?"

Krauser was never big on kissing; sure, he did kiss you sometimes, but that form of affection was far too juvenile for his taste. But now you had hit a sore spot with your question, causing him to jerk his head away abruptly.

"Don't get on my tits about that bitch, kiddo," he grunted, cold blue eyes narrowing. "She doesn't care about either of us, so fucking drop it already."

You bit your tongue, restraining yourself from ranting about how your mother had had every reason to leave, how he had treated her so poorly that leaving without a warning had probably been her only way to safety, even if it had meant giving up her own child.

Instead, you just nodded and nuzzled your face into the crook of Krauser's neck.

"Sorry, Daddy."

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Then, his free hand, the one that was not actively groping your tits, wrapped around yours that was palming his clothed cock, moving it more firmly for you.

"You gonna take care of me for a bit, hm, honey? You gonna do that for Daddy?"

His pitiful, low tone had you conditioned at this point, and you nodded. How could you possibly deny him, even if your rational side wanted this to end, craved freedom from the shackles of this dynamic, when you were all that was left of what little stability Krauser had ever known in his life? You could not abandon him just like your mother had. 

"Of course, Dad," you whispered, moving to unzip Krauser's fly. You dipped your hand into his pants, briefly holding his cock through the fabric of his boxers, before you tugged those down just enough too, pulling his half-hard shaft out.

His tip was a soft pink, and his shaft pale, surrounded by an unkempt, dark blond bush of pubic hair, which thinned out into a happy trail underneath his navel. Your hand wrapped around his thick shaft, stroking up and down the delicate skin and tracing the protruding veins there. The one on the underside of Krauser's cock pulsed as it eagerly came to life in your hand, hardening to its full size.

When you leaned down to kiss away the glistening bead of precum that oozed from Krauser's tip, you got a waft of his junk's musky smell, but to your own disappointment in yourself, the smell did not repulse you anymore, but instead turned you on. 

"That's it, kid… help your daddy relax…" Krauser murmured, one hand still fondling your tits and pinching your nipples to hardness while the other one came to rest on the back of your head, demanding and firm. Not yet forcibly pushing, but ready to do so in case you got the stupid idea of trying to back out.

But you were not going to back out, not when this was the first moderately peaceful and loving moment between you and Krauser in weeks.

You kissed down along his veiny shaft, followed by licking a long stripe back up to the tip with your flattened tongue. With your soft lips, you slowly sucked on the frenulum and teased his slit with the tip of your tongue, making him growl.

"Stop teasing and get to work," Krauser ordered, his hold on the back of your head tightening as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Obediently, because that was what your daddy had taught you, and nothing less, you wrapped your lips around his cock, flattened your tongue against the underside, and slowly began bobbing your head up and down.

"Fuck, baby, that's it… keep going," Krauser breathed, pushing your head a little further down. "Take it all, yeah… that's a good girl."

Your eyes watered, stinging as you ignored how your throat reflexively convulsed around his cock, when it hit the back of your palate. You instinctively tried to widen your mouth and relax your jaw more, as pulling back was not an option. Not when Krauser absolutely loved how deepthroating him always had your pretty makeup ruined, and how pathetic you looked when you tried not to puke on his dick. Slimy drool dribbled down his shaft and pooled at his base, getting caught in his bush. He pushed your head down a little further, your nose buried in his pubes, before you clawed at his thigh and slapped it, panicking.

With a dirty, sadistic chuckle, Krauser pulled your head back up by your hair, mercifully granting you some oxygen.

"You look fuckin' ruined," he cackled and smeared your own spit across your lips and chin. "Like some broke porn star with bills due."

"Don't… push my head down," you gasped, trying to catch your breath. You gulped, your throat already feeling sore. "'S not fun like this; I almost threw up."

"That's nasty," Krauser said, but his tone and expression seemed a little too eager, like he was not entirely opposed to provoking that outcome.

"Be nice," you sniffled, squeezing his thigh. "Or I'll stop."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, honey. I'll be nice, I promise," Krauser smirked. His thumb traced your swollen lower lip and gently tugged on it. "You're so pretty when you suck me off," he said hoarsely, slipping his thumb into your mouth. As if on cue, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked, eyes fluttering shut.

"I love you, Daddy," you mumbled with spit-slick lips and mascara streaks down your cheeks.

Disgustingly, you found yourself hoping for that kind of lecture whenever you got home past your curfew — because daddy knows how men are, and girls shouldn't be outside by themselves when it gets dark — and knocked over empty beer bottles, alerting your inebriated daddy. Anything was better than the dull pain of a dark, blooming bruise, and some of daddy's lectures did not require you to come up with implausible excuses in front of others, because they simply did not leave a mark. Not a visible one, at least.

Plap plap plap.

"That how you wanna end up like, huh? Under some guy, taking what he wants from you?" His voice was gravelly in your ear, his breath hot and humid against the side of your neck, reeking of alcohol. You held your breath.

"N-No, Dad… fuck."

"No? But that's what you get for dressing like a slut, kid."

Your cervix ached, the blunt tip of Krauser's cock ramming against it with every deep thrust. The first time this happened, you had thought that the sharp pain when your hole tried to accommodate his girth was the worst part of it all, but you had not known how much more painful this could get. 

"I'll— oh my god… I'll cover up more, Dad, I promise!" you whimpered out through gritted teeth. "Please, Daddy, it hurts…"

Krauser released your neck from the headlock he had restrained you in, and straightened up, now pressing you into the couch cushions with his large, calloused hands between your shoulder blades.

"Oh, it hurts?" he mocked your pleading voice, followed by a low growl. "You think the guy who's gonna drag you into a dark alley one day is gonna be nice about this, huh?"

"No, Daddy…"

"Exactly. Now, be a good girl and fucking take it," Krauser grunted and slammed his hips down against your ass, burying his cock deep in your abused pussy. You could tell by the way his strained noises became breathier, almost soft, all caught up in his own pleasure, that he was close.

"Fuck… gonna cum… oh, fuck," Krauser panted above you, and you instinctively clawed at the cushions beneath you in a pathetic attempt to crawl out from under your stepdad's weight.

"Not inside, please, Daddy!" you wailed desperately. Your squirming was no use; you had never stood a chance against the sheer mass of Krauser's muscles and his imposing height. Fawning, sacrificing all dignity, had always been the only way to soften him up or get your way with him.

"Shut up… shut the fuck up, you little slut." Krauser's hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back. You winced at the feeling of your spine protesting and your scalp stinging. "Nagging like her bitch of a mother, even when getting fucked, unbelievable."

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks when you felt Krauser go still above you. Only his hips twitched slightly as he pumped his hot load into you. You felt tainted, humiliated. And worst of all, you were going to have to rush to get a Plan B and pray that the emergency protection was going to prevent a pregnancy.

Breathing heavily, Krauser pulled out and slumped back against the armrest of the run-down couch. He ran a hand through his damp, blond hair and sighed, half-heartedly patting one of your bruised butt cheeks.

"There, there, kid. C'mon, stop crying, hm? I didn't mean to swear at you," he muttered.

Still sniffling, you sat up and curled against Krauser's chest. He always apologized and comforted you afterward, like a nice father— in his own, twisted way. But, well, what about him was not completely messed up?

"I'm sorry, Daddy… I didn't mean to make you angry."

Krauser swiped one calloused thumb across your cheek, wiping away your tears. 

"Did you learn your lesson?" he murmured.

"Mhm-mhm," you nodded as another choked sob escaped you.

"Then I won't have to hurt you again, hon. This ain't about my own pleasure."

This was not about sex to him, not about getting off, at least not in moments like this. Sometimes, though… it was definitely about sex.

You had watched Krauser from the corner of your eye all night, as you cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, and he had retreated to the couch, popping open more than a responsible amount of beers and dozing off in front of the TV, sprawled out, head tipped back uncomfortably against the backrest.

Despite knowing well what act of depravity this was going to provoke, you climbed onto the couch next to Krauser, curling against his side, tucking yourself under his big, muscular arm. Absentmindedly, your fingertips traced the long, deep scar that ran down the length of his arm, which eventually woke him up.

With an incoherent grumble, Krauser stirred underneath you.

"Hmph… kid…?" he murmured without opening his eyes. He only shifted a bit, his thighs spread, his legs outstretched, and his arm that was wrapped around you tightened gently around your shoulders.

"Don't you wanna go to bed, Daddy? It's late," you said, still caressing the toned forearm under your soft palm.

"Nah… 'm watching something here," Krauser grunted, but his eyes still wouldn't fully open.

"No, you're not," you scoffed with a smile you could not help. "You're snoring like a chainsaw; that's what you're doing."

"Got bored for a sec," Krauser chuckled back dryly. "But I'm wide awake now…"

Slowly, his hand that had been gently rubbing your arm snaked around your waist instead and cupped one of your tits through your top. Like always, he squeezed way too hard.

"Stop that, 's too rough," you pouted and tugged on Krauser's wrist, but he did not budge.

"Better?" he huffed as he loosened his grip, now carefully rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger.

"No, Daddy, you're not supposed to touch me there at all." You tried sounding upset, but who were you even fooling? You had already overcome the initial disgust at being touched and molested by your stepfather, to the point where you even enjoyed it sometimes, when he was being sweet and gentle about it.

"Pfft. As if you care," Krauser chuckled again. "You're a bigger pervert than me, missy. And no one's gonna find out, anyway." He emphasized the last sentence with another squeeze of your tit before slipping his hand into your cleavage.

"It's still not proper," you protested weakly, but your own hand had already found its way to Krauser's crotch, palming his bulge and tracing its outline. 

He groaned lowly, hips instinctively bucking up into your touch. 

"That's it, kid… see, we both want this…"

You did not respond, but instead, you leaned up and peppered little kisses along Krauser's jaw. You sucked and licked gently at the spot you knew he loved having caressed before capturing his lips in a slow kiss. He still reeked of alcohol, but you did not mind in that moment.

"Why'd you get drunk again, Daddy? It's not good for you," you whispered between kisses. "Were you thinking about Mom?"

Krauser was never big on kissing; sure, he did kiss you sometimes, but that form of affection was far too juvenile for his taste. But now you had hit a sore spot with your question, causing him to jerk his head away abruptly.

"Don't get on my tits about that bitch, kiddo," he grunted, cold blue eyes narrowing. "She doesn't care about either of us, so fucking drop it already."

You bit your tongue, restraining yourself from ranting about how your mother had had every reason to leave, how he had treated her so poorly that leaving without a warning had probably been her only way to safety, even if it had meant giving up her own child.

Instead, you just nodded and nuzzled your face into the crook of Krauser's neck.

"Sorry, Daddy."

He sighed and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Then, his free hand, the one that was not actively groping your tits, wrapped around yours that was palming his clothed cock, moving it more firmly for you.

"You gonna take care of me for a bit, hm, honey? You gonna do that for Daddy?"

His pitiful, low tone had you conditioned at this point, and you nodded. How could you possibly deny him, even if your rational side wanted this to end, craved freedom from the shackles of this dynamic, when you were all that was left of what little stability Krauser had ever known in his life? You could not abandon him just like your mother had. 

"Of course, Dad," you whispered, moving to unzip Krauser's fly. You dipped your hand into his pants, briefly holding his cock through the fabric of his boxers, before you tugged those down just enough too, pulling his half-hard shaft out.

His tip was a soft pink, and his shaft pale, surrounded by an unkempt, dark blond bush of pubic hair, which thinned out into a happy trail underneath his navel. Your hand wrapped around his thick shaft, stroking up and down the delicate skin and tracing the protruding veins there. The one on the underside of Krauser's cock pulsed as it eagerly came to life in your hand, hardening to its full size.

When you leaned down to kiss away the glistening bead of precum that oozed from Krauser's tip, you got a waft of his junk's musky smell, but to your own disappointment in yourself, the smell did not repulse you anymore, but instead turned you on. 

"That's it, kid… help your daddy relax…" Krauser murmured, one hand still fondling your tits and pinching your nipples to hardness while the other one came to rest on the back of your head, demanding and firm. Not yet forcibly pushing, but ready to do so in case you got the stupid idea of trying to back out.

But you were not going to back out, not when this was the first moderately peaceful and loving moment between you and Krauser in weeks.

You kissed down along his veiny shaft, followed by licking a long stripe back up to the tip with your flattened tongue. With your soft lips, you slowly sucked on the frenulum and teased his slit with the tip of your tongue, making him growl.

"Stop teasing and get to work," Krauser ordered, his hold on the back of your head tightening as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Obediently, because that was what your daddy had taught you, and nothing less, you wrapped your lips around his cock, flattened your tongue against the underside, and slowly began bobbing your head up and down.

"Fuck, baby, that's it… keep going," Krauser breathed, pushing your head a little further down. "Take it all, yeah… that's a good girl."

Your eyes watered, stinging as you ignored how your throat reflexively convulsed around his cock, when it hit the back of your palate. You instinctively tried to widen your mouth and relax your jaw more, as pulling back was not an option. Not when Krauser absolutely loved how deepthroating him always had your pretty makeup ruined, and how pathetic you looked when you tried not to puke on his dick. Slimy drool dribbled down his shaft and pooled at his base, getting caught in his bush. He pushed your head down a little further, your nose buried in his pubes, before you clawed at his thigh and slapped it, panicking.

With a dirty, sadistic chuckle, Krauser pulled your head back up by your hair, mercifully granting you some oxygen.

"You look fuckin' ruined," he cackled and smeared your own spit across your lips and chin. "Like some broke porn star with bills due."

"Don't… push my head down," you gasped, trying to catch your breath. You gulped, your throat already feeling sore. "'S not fun like this; I almost threw up."

"That's nasty," Krauser said, but his tone and expression seemed a little too eager, like he was not entirely opposed to provoking that outcome.

"Be nice," you sniffled, squeezing his thigh. "Or I'll stop."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, honey. I'll be nice, I promise," Krauser smirked. His thumb traced your swollen lower lip and gently tugged on it. "You're so pretty when you suck me off," he said hoarsely, slipping his thumb into your mouth. As if on cue, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked, eyes fluttering shut.

"I love you, Daddy," you mumbled with spit-slick lips and mascara streaks down your cheeks.